The thing is...

life is unpredictable.

One of my biggest delusions is that I should abide in comfort, permanently.

One of my greatest anguishes is that I cannot.

This feeling seems universally human.

My husband and I just spent a week realigning our next few steps with the meditation that things will shift, even from those plans, continuously.

I’ve always had the image of a river in my life, an image of being poured into, so that I can be poured out.

Empty, and full.

I’ve never really dwelled on movement.

But that’s where life thrives…in the constant shift, regardless of the water’s depth or flux.

May I learn to be like the water in the river: malleable and uninjured with what lies beside it, beneath it, or below.